


Defense Mechanisms

by p_diyos



Series: Modern BFFs AU [2]
Category: Heneral Luna (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Best Friends, Fluff, M/M, Pole's POV, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn, teeny tiny angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 15:52:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5503688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p_diyos/pseuds/p_diyos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were a million other things he should focus on, like his Social Reforms class, for example. Instead, all his brain managed to conjure up so early in the morning was that he might like his friend Miong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Defense Mechanisms

**Author's Note:**

> Another college AU (though not in the same universe as Snapshot) because apparently I need more orgmates!Mabinaldo (still the President oye) and Pole’s POV ouo

**Denial** ****

(n.)  _The refusal of something requested or desired_

 

As soon as the thought planted itself in Pole’s mind, he felt like the world was on mute. He never thought about it too much until now. There were a million other things he should focus on, like his Social Reforms class, for example. Instead, all his brain managed to conjure up so early in the morning was that he might like his friend Miong.

 

He groaned inwardly, putting his pen down. What a thought. He rationalized that it was just the aftereffects of hell week on his brain. Miong was just a close friend. It was true that they spent a lot of time together, but that was only because they were in the same org and core classes. It was true that they got along so well that sometimes they could talk with their eyes than with words. He liked Miong, he was sure of that, but to  _like_  him…

 

Pole exhaled. The fact that he thought about this so excessively was proof that he was overcomplicating things. He rethought everything and resolved that his reasoning was sound. He did not like Miong. He would put this incredulous thought to rest and go about the rest of his day as normal. He looked over his notes and resumed writing with renewed vigor.

 

“Morning,” Speak of the devil. Pole watched from the corner of his eye as Miong entered the room, a bounce in his step. Several of the other members of their organization grumbled in reply. It was too early in the day for anyone to be as awake and alert as he was.

 

Miong caught Pole’s eye, and made his way towards him. Pole froze, thoughts from earlier going in rounds in his mind. 

 

“Morning,” He knew Miong well enough to notice the slight change in tone of his voice. The earlier greeting was more cordial and friendly, his usual to people. This greeting had a hint of  – dare he think it – fondness.

 

Pole felt his heartbeat pick up speed, though he didn’t understand why.  _Snap out of it_. He told himself to act as he normally would. If he didn’t like him, it meant that nothing had to change. “Good morning,” He greeted, giving a composed smile.

 

Miong’s face lit up, and he proceeded to look through his bag for his laptop. Pole tried not to look for too much meaning behind that dimpled smile. It was just  _Miong._ The fluttering in his stomach didn’t go unnoticed.

 

 _I don’t like him._  He repeated to himself forcefully, pressing his pen harder against the paper.

 

**Repression** ****

(n.)  _The restraint, prevention, or inhibition of a feeling or quality_

Pole thought that ignoring the problem would cause it to dissipate within a few days. It has been three weeks. He was  _still_ thinking about it. He considered the possibility that maybe he wasn’t crazy. Maybe he did like Miong as more than a friend, but that didn’t mean he was going to tell him. Maybe it was going to go away on its own if he kept it to himself.

 

A weight on his left hand and a low whisper of his name in his ear was enough to derail his train of thought. He looked to his right, only to find Miong gazing at him worriedly.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Pole’s eyes dart around the room to see the entire executive board staring at them. He doesn’t miss the sniggers from Tonio, Goyong, and José at the other end of the table. He follows the direction of their stare to see Miong’s hand firmly grasping his. He pulls his hand away immediately, clearing his throat. He pushed down the feeling of butterflies in his stomach, and the lingering warmth from Miong’s hand.

 

“I’m fine, sorry. What were we talking about again?” Miong pulled back a fraction. The knot in his eyebrows doesn’t dissipate until after the meeting. 

 

“You’ve been spacing out a lot.” Miong comments when everyone else leaves. The only other person in the room was a sleeping Rusca. He, from what they knew, could only be woken up by the smell of ensaymada. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 

“Really, Miong, I’m fine.” He tries to project as much conviction in his voice as possible, but it just came out as cold and unfriendly. 

 

He continues typing the highlights of their recently concluded meeting on his laptop, when he hears Miong sigh. “You know, I’m right here if you need someone to talk to.”

 

Pole’s fingers stop and hover over the keyboard. He looked up to see Miong with his furrowed eyebrows and upturned lips. Was Miong always this concerned about him? Or was it because he realized his feelings?  _Stop_. This was getting out of hand. He was the kind of person who acted on reason, not his feelings. 

 

“Miong,” He made sure their eyes met, not only to assure Miong, but also his overactive brain. “I appreciate it, but you don’t need to worry about me. I promise you, I’m okay.”

 

“Okay,” Miong looked startled for a second, before sinking back into a mask of ambiguity. He always had that ability to switch his facial expression within a few seconds. “Well…if you’re sure. I’ll just see you after class, then.”

 

“See you,” Pole replied a little too dismissively. He ignored the pang of guilt he felt after seeing the flash of hurt on Miong’s face as he left. He let his head fall into his hands, fighting the urge to go after him. From memory, he knew Miong didn’t have class for another two hours.

**Projection**

 

(n.)  _Attribution of one’s own issues onto someone else as a form of denial_

The succeeding days were awkward. His immediate reaction, he observed, was to act cold and to push him away. If he kept this up, it would strain their friendship. He didn’t think he could handle that happening. He wanted to keep Miong around. He was the only person who didn’t treat him like he was fragile or stupid because he was in a wheelchair. 

 

“So, how long have you liked the President?”

 

Pole nearly spit out his drink. Goyong rarely ever said anything profound, but this was pushing it. He didn’t even notice him enter the room. “What did you say?”

 

Goyong rolled his eyes. “I said, how long have you liked Aguinaldo? You think you’re being pretty subtle, but I think the entire EB knows about it.”

 

His hands grew sweaty. Was he  _that_  obvious? He tried to detract the attention from him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were the one with the crush, Del Pilar.”

 

He raised his eyebrows before bursting out into laughter. “I know that tactic, Mabini. It’s not going to work on me. I admire our dear president, but I don’t like him. You, on the other hand –“

 

“I refuse to take part of this conversation.” Pole turned the other way and continued sipping his tea. “And I don’t know where you got the idea, anyway.”

 

“I don’t see why you’re making this such a big problem.” Goyong continued. “Aguinaldo is a good guy. You’re not the only one who likes him.”  

 

Pole stopped mid-sip. He never considered that. The thought of someone else liking Miong was foreign. He also realized that it made him feel nauseous. He put his mug down on the table. “What are you saying?”

 

He could practically hear Goyong’s victorious smirk from behind him. “He’s been receiving a lot of gifts lately. I may also know a handful of people interested in him.”

 

Pole turned around, ignoring how clammy his hands were getting. “And this should concern me?”

 

“It should, since you haven’t made a move yet. Someone might confess before you do.”

 

He scoffed. “I don’t need to make a move because  _I don’t like him_.”

 

Goyong leaned in closer, scrutinizing his expression. Another thing with this guy – he did not understand the concept of personal space. “You can tell that to everyone, including yourself; but we all know that’s not true. Stop denying it. Liking your friend isn’t as bad as you think.”

 

“What are you doing?” Pole turned his attention to the door. Miong stood with his bag slung over his shoulder, lips in a thin, and hard line.

Goyong chuckled and hopped off the table. “I was just leaving, actually.” He said lightly, patting Miong’s shoulder on the way out. “I’ll see you two.”

 

Pole was glad to see Goyong leave. He didn’t know how much more of his mind games he could take. Miong placed his bag on the table and sat beside him.

 

“What were you and Goyong talking about?” Miong asked nonchalantly, but Pole could hear the slight strain in his voice.

 

“He’s just spitting out nonsense. I was the unfortunate listener.”

 

Miong nodded and Pole retrieved his mug, wanting to calm himself down. It wasn’t until five minutes later that either of them spoke up.

 

“Hey,” Pole turned to face Miong, surprised by the sudden quietness in his voice. “You feeling better today?”

He was surprised with the concern laced in Miong’s voice. Rather than take offense to his aloofness like he thought Miong would, he just cared  _more_. Pole didn’t deserve that much kindness.

 

“A little bit,” He made sure he didn’t sound as dismissive as he usually did. Even with that response, he felt like he owed Miong more than that.

 

Pole sighed heavily. “I’ve been…going through some things. I’m still trying to figure it out, but I’ve been having a hard time.” He didn’t realize how difficult that was for him to admit out loud until now. He was too busy pushing his feelings down, that allowing it to surface felt to foreign.

 

“You could have just said so from the start.” Miong bit his lower lip. “Well…like I said before, I’m right here if you want to talk, okay?”

 

Pole smiled sadly. He didn’t know if he was ever going to tell Miong what he thought. His feelings were already complicated as it was. “Thank you, Miong. I appreciate it.”

 

**Rationalization** ****

(n.)  _Controversial behaviours or feelings are explained in a seemingly rational or logical manner to avoid true explanation_

 

Pole tried to act a little nicer after that. He couldn’t bring it upon himself to ignore Miong or to act cold anymore. Maybe he did  _like_  him, and maybe he did  _care_  about him. He decided, however, that he wasn’t going to overthink the things Miong did or said. He found that whenever he did, he didn’t act like himself. He wanted to be a little more kind; after all, Miong was nothing but kind to him.

 

Things improved within a week. Pole was a lot more conscious, but trying not to think be too critical did him some good. He noticed Miong’s lingering glances; but he didn’t say anything after that day.

 

Pole rested on his palm, trying to sleep his headache away. He felt too tired to go to the cafeteria by himself, even if he was really hungry. All he had for breakfast was an egg.

 

“Here,” He opened his eyes as Miong slid a familiar lunch box with blue lining in front of him. “My mom brought two by accident, it would be a waste not to share it.”

 

Pole blinked at the clear box. “Why would your mom bring two?”

 

Miong shrugged casually, but Pole didn’t miss his ears slowly turn red. “She always asks her driver to bring food over to my dorm. I think it was supposed to be for my sister. You haven’t eaten lunch yet, right?”

 

His temples ached in response. “Not yet,” Why would Miong give it to him of all people, though? He could just have it for dinner later, or for lunch tomorrow. He could just eat both if he was really that hungry. He caught himself overthinking again, and decided to open the lunchbox.

 

“She wouldn’t mind you having it, you know.” Miong poked an olive out with his fork and ate it. “She says you’re too skinny for your own good.”

 

“It’s more to do with lack of sleep and less to do with what I eat.” The food was cold. The fact that it was home-cooked however, made the temperature a minor inconvenience. He smiled widely. “Thank you.”

 

Miong returned the smile and they resumed eating in companionable silence. 

 

-

Pole nearly jumped out of his wheelchair when he heard a loud sneeze from across the room. He peered over his book to see Miong wiping his nose with his handkerchief. That was the third sneeze in the past eight minutes.

 

“Are you okay?” It was just the two of them left, so he didn’t have to make his voice too loud.

 

Miong sniffled, but smiled at Pole. “I’m fine, just a cold.”

 

“You’ve had that cold for two weeks now.” He commented.

 

“Have I?” He seemed glad that Pole noticed. “It’ll go away even…even…” Miong held up his hand before sneezing into his handkerchief again. “Eventually,”

 

Pole frowned. In contrast to him, a regular at their school infirmary, Miong had an immune system of steel. This was the first time he has ever seen him sick for more than a few days.

 

He watched Miong stare at his readings with disinterest. He looked paler and his cheekbones were more sunken than usual. The only colour present on his face was on the tip of his nose, probably because he rubbed on it too roughly with his handkerchief.

Pole thought about it for a minute, before reaching into his bag and pulling out an unopened pack of tissue. “Miong,”

 

The person in question looked up from his readings. Pole moved towards him and placed the pack of tissue beside the stack of papers. “You can’t use your hanky forever.”

 

Miong looked at him with wide eyes, but took the pack of tissue nonetheless. Pole took this as his cue to wheel himself back to his side of the room and return to his book.

 

“Pole?” He looked up immediately, a slight flutter in his chest from the way he said his name. Miong smiled widely. “Thank you,”

 

Pole had his face behind his book for an hour to hide his smile.

 

**Acceptance** ****

(n.)  _A person’s assent to the reality of the situation, recognizing a process or a condition without attempting to change it_

Pole decided that after dodging the issue for so long, it was best to accept his fate. He liked Miong. He liked him a lot more than he realized; and that was okay. He liked spending time with Miong, and he realized that he liked taking care of him. He was the best person for the job. He also realized that he didn’t need to do anything about it. Whatever it was they had at the present was enough for him. 

 

A knock made him look at the direction of the org room door. Miong peeked from the side, a small but nervous smile on his face. “You busy?”

 

Pole smiled and shook his head. He closed his laptop as Miong entered the room, hands behind his back. His paper could wait; he was already halfway done.

 

“I got this for you.” He sits down in front of him and hands over a hardbound book. Pole marvels at the dark blue cover with swirls and dots of white, forming a galaxy. “It’s one of my favourites. You probably don’t have time to read it until the end of the sem, but I hope you like it.”

 

Pole couldn’t find it in himself to fight smiling. He took the book in his hands, flipping through the pages. “This has been sold out for months.” He would know; he’s pestered the lady at the bookstore so much that they were on a first-name basis.

 

Miong smiled sheepishly. “I had it reserved.”

 

He runs his hand over the cover, feeling the indents of the swirls and letters against his skin. “You didn’t have to get me this.”

 

“I wanted to. You deserve it after being with me for so long. And for going through hell month twice in a sem.”

 

Pole felt his heart swell. Miong was always good at making him feel special. “Thank you,” He hoped his voice conveyed all the gratitude and happiness he felt right at that moment.

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

He placed his hand on top of Miong’s and looked into his eyes. “Really, thank you, Miong. This means a lot to me.”

 

Pole didn’t miss the hint of red dusting Miong’s cheeks. It was nice to know that he had a bit of an effect on him as well.

 

Whatever they had was enough…for now.


End file.
